


Despite It All

by abberwocky



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, Internal Conflict, Keeper of the Moon Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mutual Pining, Post-Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:02:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abberwocky/pseuds/abberwocky
Summary: It has been some time since the Warrior of Light and the Lord Commander shared a passionate night together, so when Alarys is sent to Ishgard to deliver the news of developments at Baelsar's Wall, she can barely contain her excitement. However, she soon starts to question their relationship as the near-impossibility of them being together dawns on her.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a scene I've been wanting to write and get right for a while, so... Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!
> 
> Rated M for the suggestive ending ^^;

It had taken all her composure  _ not _ to leap at Y’shtola’s suggestion to journey to Ishgard and inform the Lord Commander of the imminent conflict at Baelsar’s Wall. That composure was quickly unravelling, however, as she stood idly in the Congregation awaiting his return from Parliament. Bouncing on her toes was unbecoming, but not entirely uncharacteristic, of the Warrior of Light.

Suddenly, in the corner of her eye, she spied the doors heave open and that familiar shade of blue walk through them. Alarys pivoted round eagerly to greet him, but the words fell flat in her throat. He was not alone, and the company he kept was nothing short of beautiful.

“I thank you for your counsel, my lady,” she heard him say. “Your contributions today were most enlightening.”

The woman - an elegant Elezen of comely features - smiled and curseyed before taking her leave of him. Try as she might, Alarys could not tear her gaze away from her. Her graceful gait, her luxurious clothes, the way her chestnut locks flowed so effortlessly down her back… She was, in every way, perfect. Perfect for  _ him _ . In that moment, reality came crashing down upon her and her heart wept.

How naive she had been. To think that she, a lowborn Keeper of the Moon from the Black Shroud, could ever have been worthy of the Lord Commander’s time and attention. Besides, how could she possibly commit to such a person, knowing all the duties that lay ahead of her? With the Dragonsong War officially over, there was no real reason for her to remain in Ishgard. No real reason to be with him… He deserved better. Someone who could be there. Someone befitting of his station. 

The thoughts barraged her relentlessly, each one cutting deep into her heart. Alarys balled her fists and clenched her jaw; it was all she could do to stop her tears bursting forth. She had a duty to carry out, nothing more. This matter concerned all of Eorzea, and matters of the heart simply paled in comparison. This she had to remember.

So engulfed by her thoughts, so filled with nausea was the Miqo’te, that she failed to notice the Lord Commander’s face light up at the sight of her. It was only as her name was spoken upon his lips that her trance was somewhat broken.

“Alarys, how wonderful it is to see you again,” he beamed. “Were it not for your sudden arrival, I would have called for some wine. Pray, what brings you here this day?”

Unable to meet his eyes, Alarys feebly recounted the tidings brought to the Scions by M’naago. Once she had finished, she was vaguely aware of Ser Aymeric issuing orders to Lucia and explaining something about his counterpart in the House of Commons. She nodded silently, as the Warrior of Light so often did, and felt her heart sink as he departed once more. The First Commander also began to leave, then paused and turned back to her.

“Alarys, we are to await the envoy at the Gates of Judgement,” she instructed.

“Oh, right, yes… Sorry.”

Though she did indeed manage to put one foot in front of the other, each step felt heavier than the last. She trudged in Lucia’s wake through the Foundation and to the Gates. A blizzard loomed over the Holy See and the mountains of Coerthas were coated in a bleak, dense fog. The wind was cruel and uninviting; it gnawed at her skin and shook her very bones. Alarys hugged herself, shivering uncontrollably.

“Are you quite alright, my lady?” 

The sudden question startled the Miqo’te and her tail stood on end. The First Commander’s unusually gentler tone only served to push Alarys further into her shell and steel herself.

“Hm? Oh, no, I’m fine. I, um, I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve been in the cold,” she mumbled, not even convincing herself.

“Doubtless we shall soon be on the move,” the knight reassured her. “Why, it wouldn’t surprise me if Ser Aymeric himself offered to be the envoy. None in Ishgard is more well-versed in both political and military affairs than he.”

The gates creaked open and Alarys’ stomach knotted. As if Lucia had spoken it into existence, his familiar, armour-clad footsteps echoed throughout the tunnel. A new wave of nausea washed over her as the Lord Commander arrived by her side.

“I thank you both for your patience. Lucia, the city is yours to command. I shall act as the envoy myself - to send any other would feel improper when the ink is barely dry in Ishgard’s new chapter within the Eorzean Alliance.” He turned to smile at Alarys, though she could scarcely meet his eye. 

“Pray, forgive me for keeping you waiting, Alarys, but I must beg one more stop ere we depart for Gridania. Might I trouble you to accompany me to Camp Dragonhead? I would see our defences on the border bolstered, should things go awry. We may also acquire some chocobos there to make the journey. What say you?”

“Of course, S- Ser Aymeric. Lead on.”

The title fell clumsily on her lips, but she had to make that distinction now. For the sake of her heart, they would embark on this journey as the Lord Commander and the Warrior of Light. Nothing more, nothing less.


	2. Chapter 2

The journey, much as it pained her, had been fraught with icy silence. Any conversation struck up by the Lord Commander had been met with short, snippy responses. Every single one cut a little deeper.

The sun burned low in the sky when they finally arrived in Gridania, the summit set to take place on the morrow. The familiar sounds and scents of the Carline Canopy gave the Warrior of Light some small comfort as they entered. As was right and proper, she asked Mother Miounne to reserve two rooms.

Payment settled and keys obtained, Alarys shuffled nervously next to him, not knowing what to say; all she knew right now was that she needed to get away. She flinched as she felt his eyes upon her.

“Alarys, is aught amiss?” They both knew he wasn’t asking. Still, she could not muster the words.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Actually, there are some things I need to take care of here in the city. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

“I… Yes, of course.”

He bowed courteously and with that, she hurriedly paced out of the Canopy. She needed to go somewhere -  _ anywhere -  _ to try and clear her head. As she wove through the hustle and bustle of Gridania, Alarys furrowed her brow.

To think that the last time they had been together, they had just shared a heated, passionate night. And just as quickly as it had happened, the Warrior of Light had been swept away in another duty-bound whirlwind. From Alisaie being on the brink of death, to thwarting the summoning of more primals and sending the Warriors of Darkness back to their world, there had been nary a moment for her to even  _ think _ about her relationship with Aymeric. And now, the floodgates had opened and she was veritably drowning in those thoughts.

What  _ were _ they? Who was she to him? Could they ever truly be ‘together’? Hells, did he  _ want _ to be with her? And as much as she wanted to be with him, could she allow herself to be? Could she allow herself something so selfish when there were much greater things at stake? The fate of Ala Mhigo hung in the balance, the Ascians were still very much at large, and here she was, tormenting herself over one man. How selfish the Warrior of Light had become.

Suddenly, Alarys stopped in her tracks; a barrage of red flames and the heady scent of roses assailed her senses. She blinked several times - the amphitheatre looked as if a heart-shaped Atomos had vomited all over it. Her eyes narrowed as realisation sank in.

“You have  _ got _ to be joking…”

Before she could utter another word, an Elezen man, clad in ridiculous red and white attire, waltzed up to her.

“Welcome to the festive phenomenon that is Valentione’s Day!” he cheered. “Pray join Lisette and her emissaries in this celebration of love, pure and passionate!”

“Um, no, thanks…” she replied bitterly. As she tried to walk away, the man stooped in front of her once again.

“Oh, come now, my lady! What could be more enjoyable than celebrating love itself?”

“About anything right now,” Alarys grunted through gritted teeth, her small steps unable to outwalk the Elezen’s lengthy gait.

“Ah, I see your heart is hurting,” he observed woefully. “Then, let us help you mend your wounds and find the love you so sorely seek.”

“I said  _ NO! _ ”

She all but pushed him out of the way and her legs carried her as far away as they could. She ran and ran and ran, until the every step sent shockwaves through her bones, until her lungs burned, until her ears rang. And when she could run no more, she doubled over and gasped for breath. Silently, she cursed The Lover for adding salt to these ever growing wounds. When her breath finally returned, Alarys stood up and inhaled deeply. The Miqo’te looked around and managed a small chuckle; she had ended up outside her old guild and it brought her a measure of calm. For a mercy, Nophica’s Altar had not been adorned in tacky, heart-shaped decorations.

Though she wasn’t really aware of how much time had passed, the sun had long set and the cobblestones of Old Gridania were now illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps. With the coming of night, fatigue from the day’s events finally swathed her body. So much for a walk to clear her head - only a run and an attack on the senses. Alarys conceded defeat and decided to return to the inn, albeit at a much slower pace.

Thankfully, the Lord Commander was nowhere to be seen. Alarys allowed herself a sigh of relief and slumped into the chair furthest away from the door and the prying eyes that tended to walk through it. Within minutes, Mother Miounne had brought her a hearty meal which she gratefully tucked into. The kindly Elezen took the seat opposite her.

“My, it feels like only yesterday you walked in here as a wee sprout,” Mother Miounne sighed. “And now look at you, Alarys - Saviour of Eorzea twice over… I’m proud to have played even just a small part in your journey, my dear.”

“Small?” Alarys echoed, smiling wistfully. “Mother Miounne, without you, I’d still be wandering aimlessly around the Aetheryte Plaza!”

“Nonsense! You were always destined for great things, I just had the honour of taking you under my wing for a while. Though, I will say, you have been a  _ great _ selling point for the Adventurers’ Guild.” Their laughter echoed through the inn, catching a few glimpses, but Mother Miounne paid them no mind. Instead, she steepled her hands and rested her chin upon them, a knowing smile spread across her lips.  
“So, about that Lord Commander…”

“...what about him?” Alarys flattened her ears - and here she thought she’d gotten away with it.

“Now, I don’t know what’s going on between you and I shall not pry, but you two brought the cold of Coerthas in here when you walked through my door today.” Her ears wilted.  
“But I’ll tell you this: that man has asked after you every bell this evening. Whatever you’re not saying to him, he deserves to hear it at least.”

An ache seared through her chest as Mother Miounne placed a loving hand on her shoulder and took her bowl away. The guilt weighed heavy, knowing she had caused him to worry so. Alarys sighed and made her way to her room; perhaps a shower would clear her head instead.


	3. Chapter 3

Clean and dressed down for the night, Alarys’ body felt lighter - would that she could say the same for her heart. There was no hope of sleep until she had spoken to him. This she knew, yet her hand still trembled as it reached for the door. Hells, she didn’t even know if he would be in his room, but she had to at least try.

“Breathe, Alarys. Breathe…” she instructed herself, willing her heart to slow. Yet as she opened the door, the sight she was met with sent it pounding impossibly faster.

His armour shed, Aymeric stood before her in simpler garb, his hand in midair where he had just been about to knock. His eyes were alight with trepidation.

“May I come in?” he asked softly.

Wordlessly, Alarys stood aside and allowed him to enter, closing the door behind him. Her hand retreated to her collarbone as she felt his gaze set upon her once more. The silence between them was palpable - _painful_ , even - and still the words would not come. The Lord Commander sighed sorrowfully. 

“Alarys, something is troubling you and I fear I am the cause of it. Please, tell me what it is that I might make things right.”

Tears stung her eyes upon hearing his heartfelt plea. All this time she had been hurting, oblivious to how much pain she had caused him in turn. She hugged herself tightly, finally allowing the tears to fall.

“I’m sorry,” she choked. “I… I just… When you walked in with that noblewoman, I…”Alarys couldn’t finish her sentence as she began to sob.

“Lady Tourcenet?” he uttered in disbelief. “She is but a peer in the House of Lords, nothing more. If I gave the wrong impression”-

“No no no, it’s not that,” she stammered. “I- It’s… you didn’t… I realised that I… that _we_ … could never be together.”

“...what?” The tremor in his voice cut right through her. To hear the eloquent and self-assured Aymeric de Borel _falter_ in his words, it felt so unbearably wrong. Seconds of agonising silence passed before he spoke again.   
“Alarys, all those moments we shared, that _night_ we spent together… Were they all for naught?”

“Of course they weren’t!” she cried, her voice hoarse.

“Then why!? Why are you saying this? I thought I had made my feelings for you clear!”

“You did, Aymeric, you did! But…” She fell limp against the wall and covered her face. “I’m the Warrior of Light. Now that the war is over, I… I can’t stay in Ishgard. I have to carry on. I have a duty to the Scions, to Eorzea. I can’t ask you to be with someone who can hardly be there for you!”

“And what of my duties, Alarys?” he snapped, making her flinch. “I am Lord Commander of the Temple Knights _and_ Head of the House of Lords. Whether you were in Ishgard or not, I would have precious little time to see you and _still_ , still I would choose you!”   
Alarys froze, eyes wide and quivering behind her flimsy shield. She trembled as he stepped towards her. Gently, tenderly, he moved her hands away from her face and wiped her tears. Any fear in his eyes had melted away, replaced with ardent desire. He spoke now in barely a whisper.  
“It matters not to me how far apart we are, nor how long we may go without seeing each other. Despite it all, I will always choose you, Alarys Elakah. Not as the Warrior of Light, nor as the saviour of Ishgard; only you, just as you are.”

“Aymeric…” She gulped as he rested his forehead against her own.

“And if you would have me, I am yours.”

For the first time that day, Alarys’ heart eased its pace. She met his gaze as her hands rested on his shoulders, propping herself up on the tips of her toes.

“I would,” she murmured. “Just as you are, Aymeric de Borel.”

That was all the invitation he needed. At long last, he pressed his lips against hers and a thousand thousand wings took flight in her heart. Alarys sighed into the kiss, parting her lips and allowing his tongue to slip past. As the kiss deepened, her arms snaked round the back of his neck to anchor herself. Effortlessly, Aymeric scooped her up and she squeaked in slight surprise, her giggles escaping between kisses as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt him grin from ear to ear, and before long the two parted for air, wide-eyed and breathless.

“Hah… How long I have waited to do that,” he beamed.

“You and me both,” she replied shakily, to which he pecked her and she giggled again. Alarys felt the blood rushing to her cheeks as she then hastily averted her eyes from his loving expression, the question tumbling from her lips:  
“Aymeric… Would- would you… stay with me tonight?”

He said nothing, answering instead with a deep and tender kiss. Her tail swished back and forth, and she could not suppress the chirps of delight resounding in her throat as he carried her towards the bed.


End file.
